


Dye

by thatstarlitsky



Category: VIXX
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Haircuts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatstarlitsky/pseuds/thatstarlitsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lone stylist, living his life in an out of the way hair shop rarely sees the same customer twice, let alone a regular. Just Navi fluff, a touch of angst and lots of hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dye

**Author's Note:**

> This story is my first upload to AO3~  
> It can also be found on my Asian Fan Fiction profile under starlitskies

Kim Wonshik took pride in his hair. It was the one thing about himself he could change on a whim, without a second thought. It was the part of him that could shift his entire appearance, turning him from suave businessman to punk rocker within an hour. Sometimes, if he was feeling daring, he would print a photo of a style off the internet and bring it into a professional to see how it looked on him. Sometimes it flopped hard. Others, it made him drop dead gorgeous.  
But the last time Kim Wonshik had gotten his hair done, it had gone so horribly wrong, he now feared going near a stylist. His hair was growing long and shaggy, brushing his shoulders as he yanked his bangs back, pinning them in place with his beanie. It had been almost two months since the cringe-worthy style, and his black to blonde hair was driving him insane. He wanted to grab a pair of scissors and chop it off himself, but he already knew that would go even worse than the last cut.  
Sighing at his reflection in the car mirror, Wonshik shifted back into his seat and turned the keys in the ignition, backing out of his driveway. Truly, truly he looked awful. He might as well be bald with how he was hiding his terrible hair with that beanie. It only emphasized the long oval shape of his head. He desperately wanted his bangs back. At the very least his cousins wouldn’t laugh at him nearly as much...  
Silently resigning himself to his fate, Wonshik drove the back roads of rural Korea, preferring to avoid the highway which was gridlocked with traffic at this time of day. People always waited until last minute before travelling on Easter it seemed. Wonshik would laugh at them and call them foolish, but he was one of those people, so he held his tongue.  
He reached over to change the radio station off that god awful song he hated beyond comprehension when he saw it. Double taking for the briefest of moments, he caught sight of the sign hanging tall and proud by the road at the end of a long driveway.  
Hair Cuts for All Ages – No Appointment Necessary!  
Also – Eggs For Sale  
Open 8am – 6pm  
Surely, surely it was a sign from the heavens above. He quickly pulled over on the side of the road, fully prepared to perform a quick U turn to get back to the driveway, but a moment later fear seized his heart. What if the place was garbage? What if they ruined his hair even more?  
But, he mused, I’m currently hiding my hair inside a hat. Surely it couldn’t get worse than this.  
And to be perfectly honest, if it did get worse, at least he still had his hat to hide the horror from sight.  
Forcing the worried thoughts out of his mind, Wonshik spun his wheel and hit the gas, turning his car around and driving the short distance back towards the driveway. He turned into it, biting his lip as the quaint little home slid closer. There was a single, lone pickup truck in the driveway and what looked like a chicken coop not too far away from the front porch. A few chickens clucked casually around the yard, bobbing their heads as they pecked at the ground for bugs. Being careful not to run over the few that had settled on the road, Wonshik pulled his black Toyota into the spot beside the large, red pickup. He buzzed his lips, turning his car off and sliding out. He swallowed as he approached the front porch. He’d never been to a rural hairstylist before, and by the looks of the place, the house was the stylist’s home as well as his business. Somehow, the combination made him nervous, yet excited.  
He knocked on the door, hearing the sounds of the chickens behind him. A cat was curled up on the porch swing a few feet away, and the sound of birds made him feel at peace. It was lovely, comfortable even, and the front door opened all too soon.  
A round faced man with tanned skin smiled brightly at him. “Hello,” he greeted in a cheerful voice. “Are you here for eggs or a haircut?”  
“Ah...a haircut,” Wonshik said, scratching the back of his head.  
He was quickly beckoned inside with yet another smile. The house smelled fresh, yet spicy, a hint of cinnamon floating through the air.  
“If you don’t mind, please take off your shoes and have a seat over there, I’ll be right with you,” the man said, darting frenetically to the shelves covered in hair care products and adjusting them.  
“Mind if I ask your price first?” Wonshik had been surprised far too many times by sketchy hairstylists.  
“Ten for short, twenty for medium, thirty for long,” the man replied. “Dyes, of course, are extra, as is a wash. What do you have in mind?”  
“Uhh,” Wonshik wondered exactly what he should say. He let out a soft sigh and yanked his beanie off, letting his terrible half and half hairstyle fall across his face again. “Just fix this, please,”  
“Oh you must tell me the story behind this one,” the man laughed. “I have a policy as well – bad hair days get five dollars off,”  
“Are you the stylist?”  
The man nodded. “Went to school and everything. My name’s Hakyeon by the way,”  
Certain of Hakyeon’s authenticity, Wonshik eventually made his way over to the styling seat near the window. He could see all the way down the driveway to the road. A car whizzed past, barely slowing down, taking no interest in the stylist’s little house.  
“Do you get a lot of business here?” Wonshik couldn’t help but ask as the smock was tied around his body.  
“For a rural place, it’s quite decent. People usually stop in when they’re passing by. Travellers, mostly, you know? I don’t normally see the same people on a regular basis,” Hakyeon replied, gathering his things together. “Except maybe a few people who live in the area. Even then, people prefer to travel to the city to get their hair done,”  
Wonshik nodded, understanding completely. “Are those your chickens?”  
“Of course,” Hakyeon chuckled. “Little darlings. I’ll tell you about them later. For now, tell me about this hair,” he ran his fingers through it, examining the bleach blonde as though it were a sin. “Why did you let it get this bad? These split ends are horrible,”  
“I dyed it green about two months ago and had it styled too,” Wonshik confessed. “The style turned out really bad, but the colour was okay for a few days. Then it turned this terrible vomit colour and I just...it was a nightmare,”  
Hakyeon chuckled lightly. “And then?”  
“Well...since that last stylist sucked I was paranoid another one would do a bad job too,”  
“Understandable,” Hakyeon fiddled with his hair for a few more moments before letting the stringy strands slip between his fingers once more. “Well, if you want my opinion, you’ve come to the right place. Urban stylists are so full of themselves, but me? Unless someone was lying to me, I’ve never given a bad haircut,” he grinned proudly, as though waiting for someone to call him out on his cockiness. Having a feeling the preening was half-hearted anyway, Wonshik grinned at Hakyeon’s reflection.  
“Alright, prove it,” he challenged.  
“Done,” Hakeyon took hold of his hair again. “I’m going to get this blonde out first, then I’ll give it a proper cut. Alright?”  
“Yes, please get the blonde out, I beg of you,”  
Hakyeon laughed brightly. “I like you already,” he picked up a squirt bottle and sprayed his hair, combing the knots out bit by bit. “So, my chickens, I have twenty of them so if you’ve packed one away in your car, I will know it,”  
Wonshik chuckled. “I have no need for a chicken,”  
“Good, because people steal my chickens. It happened last week. Maniac. Wanted to eat poor Shelby,”  
“Did you name them all?”  
“Of course I did, though I have a hard time telling some of them apart,” he picked up his scissors and began cutting away at the blonde, ridding Wonshik of his two-toned hair until he chose to dye it again. “They all have a band around their leg that says their name. Usually it’s just a number for some farmers, but I like to name them,”  
“And your cat?”  
“I actually have four, two of them are upstairs, one of them is probably on the porch and the fourth is god knows where. Probably making kittens or something,”  
Wonshik laughed again.  
“Actually the fourth cat is kind of feral. He only shows up to eat and leaves quietly. I’m just glad I got my other three fixed so they won’t be having any kittens,”  
“That’s a good thing,”  
“It is. I don’t need too many animals here. I’m happy with my chickens and my three and a half cats,” he snipped the last of the blonde out and combed through the hair once more. “Okay, talk to me. What style do you want?”  
“Just something simple. Short at the back, long at the front. I don’t really have any ideas of how I want to get it done,”  
“How do you want your bangs?”  
“Sideswept?”  
“Sure, easy enough,” Hakyeon nodded. Bit by bit, his scissors began snipping away the old, nasty cut from his nightmares and replacing it with a rather dashing one. Occasional, bantering conversations passed between them, and they were interrupted once by a lady coming to buy eggs. By the time he was done, Wonshik was feeling much better about himself indeed.  
“So much better,” Hakyeon said, mussing up the newly styled hair as Wonshik paid. “Honestly, I should’ve taken before and after shots,”  
“No,” Wonshik chuckled, brushing his bangs into place once more. “I’m going to forget skunk hair ever happened,”  
Hakyeon laughed. “Oh please. Skunk style doesn’t even look good on a skunk, just saying,”  
“It works on a skunk though,”  
“I don’t really like skunks anyway so let’s not talk about them,” Hakyeon chuckled.  
“Thanks for everything, Hakyeon,” Wonshik smiled.  
“Ah you’re welcome. Take care now, okay?”  
When Wonshik left, it was just the departure of another customer, one who would never return.

...

But Wonshik did return, just over a month later. He walked up onto the porch, sidestepping a chicken – Francine if he was reading the tag right – and knocked on the door. It swung open a few seconds later, and instantly, Hakyeon’s face lit up in a smile.  
“Well that’s a familiar face I think – Wonshik did you come back to me?”  
“I did,” Wonshik chuckled. “With a challenge for you, should you wish to accept it,”  
“I shall accept it; just give me about ten more minutes. I have another customer right now,”  
“Two in one day? You lucky person,”  
“Oh hush,” Hakyeon chuckled. “Feel free to grab some tea or coffee from over there and have a seat,” he gestured to a small table with a coffee maker, several decently sized mugs, and little packets of cream and sugar.  
Wonshik thanked him and poured a cup of coffee before sitting down in one of the soft, cushiony chair nearby. He watched Hakyeon work, unable to help but smile as he tried to crack jokes to the man in front of him. He seemed indifferent as his hair was gradually trimmed into a shapely form. From the pile of dark hair lying at the foot of the chair, he’d let it grow rather long before this day. Wonshik couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what his hair had looked like last time – only blonde instead of black.  
After a few more minutes, Hakyeon finished up. The stoic faced man retreated with a brief nod and thanks, disappearing up the driveway with barely another word.  
“I’m going to bet his wife told him to get his hair cut,” Hakyeon said, chuckling lightly. “Let me clean up, then it’s your turn,”  
Wonshik finished up his coffee as Hakyeon swept the hair off the floor. Quickly scooping it up and discarding it the nearby trashcan, he stretched his arms above his head and smiled over at him.  
“Okay,” Hakyeon said. “What’s your challenge?”  
With a flourish, Wonshik produced a photograph of a hairstyle he wanted to try. Hakyeon took it and examined it, nodding slightly as he took it all in.  
“I think that’s doable. If you’re sure about the style, I mean. I can replicate it,”  
Wonshik nodded. “Well yeah I mean...I like trying different hairstyles,”  
“And this is why you ended up with that bad haircut,” Hakyeon chuckled.  
“The style was nice, the stylist sucked,”  
“Touché,” Hakyeon laughed again. “Okay, sit down and I’ll do my best. Just don’t hate on me if it doesn’t look good on you,”  
“Of course, I promise,” Wonshik said, taking a seat in the chair.  
“And I’m not going to be able to take another customer for about two hours so get cozy,”  
As though taking Hakyeon’s words literally, Wonshik slouched in the seat and put his hands behind his head. “Done,”  
A sharp, playful slap to his shoulder made him jump, but Hakyeon immediately began apologizing.  
“Sorry, sorry, it’s a habit, I’m sorry,” he stammered, quickly grabbing the smock.  
“What? Don’t worry about it,” Wonshik said, sitting properly so Hakyeon could wrap the smock around him.  
“I’m always being told to stop hitting people, ugh but there I go, doing it to a customer, please don’t sue,”  
“I said it’s fine,” Wonshik smiled at him in the mirror. “It’s not like you punched me. It didn’t even hurt,”  
“Okay, good,” Hakyeon chewed his lip as he reached for his equipment. “I do that kind of stuff to my friends all the time...well I did before I moved here. Now I just talk to them on the phone sometimes,” he laughed lightly, getting to work on Wonshik’s hair. “They all have their own lives, you know?”  
“Yeah, I get it,” Wonshik nodded. “All of my high school friends scattered to go to college. It was quite a shock to suddenly be alone,”  
“Hmm, but I guess in a way it’s nice when it’s quiet. Not too quiet, but quiet,”  
“Is that why you came to the country?”  
“Nah, I came to the country because my parents gave me this house,” Hakyeon confessed. “My grandmother passed and they were going to sell it, but I wasn’t quite ready to let go of this part of my family, you know? I’m not ready to sell it yet,”  
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Wonshik watched Hakyeon work in the mirror. “Is that why you chose to set up in the country instead of the city?”  
“Yeah, the house definitely influenced that decision,” Hakyeon chuckled. “Plus I just...don’t like the city. Too much nonsense,”  
“That’s what makes it exciting,” Wonshik laughed. “This house is nice though. It’s part of the reason I chose to come back here, even though there are more stylists near my place,”  
“Ah, well thank you,” Hakyeon smiled. “I never really took you for that kind of person to be honest,  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You seem like the kind of guy to enjoy making a ruckus among the ruckus,”  
“That would be me,” Wonshik laughed. “Except I prefer to go somewhere quiet to take a nap when I’m all tired out from causing ruckus,”  
Hakyeon laughed. “Sleep is heaven sent,”  
“It really is,” Wonshik found Hakyeon in the mirror with his eyes once again, watching him work on his hair. “But I guess I do live on the metaphorical edge,”  
“What sort of things do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
“I go to a lot of parties, actually. I don’t drink much, I just go to dance and enjoy the music. Aside from that, I work in a music shop, and write raps in my spare time,”  
“I think I’ve been to one party in my whole life and nobody invited me back. They thought I was cool until they—” he cut himself off with a swallow, quickly shuffling through his equipment again. The back and sides of Wonshik’s hair was significantly shorter now, the top still being long and somewhat wild. “Okay, so bleach first, then the actual dye. Is that good?”  
“Until they what?” Wonshik asked.  
“Nothing, nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Hakyeon once again began digging through his tools, pulling out the necessary dyes. “The bleaching is probably going to sting,”  
“Yeah it’s my least favourite part,” Wonshik chuckled lightly. He decided not to bring up whatever topic Hakyeon was avoiding again, though he was still wondering just what had happened to him.  
Wonshik did his best to ignore the tingling in his scalp as Hakyeon smeared the ammonia smelling dye into his hair with a thick popsicle stick, layer after layer. The scent made him feel dizzy, and the tingling soon turned into a sharp stinging, but he ignored it, knowing when his hair came out, it would once again be that violent shade of blonde he’d cut out of his hair the last time he was here.  
“Do you want tea or coffee while you wait?” Hakyeon asked, tugging off his gloves.  
“Ah yeah, I’ll have some more coffee. Black, please,”  
“Ew you’re one of those people,” Hakyeon chuckled.  
“Yes, I am one of those people,” Wonshik grinned cheekily.  
“Nothing wrong with that,” the stylist handed him his coffee, smiling kindly. “Is your head screaming for mercy yet?”  
“Oh yeah it’s getting there,” Wonshik laughed lightly, taking a sip. “There’s a bit on the back of my ear that’s starting to scream for help,”  
Hakyeon pulled his ear to the side and quickly wiped the unnecessary cream off with a wet cloth. “There. Can’t have you getting chemical burns anywhere now can we?”  
“That would suck so thank you,”  
Wonshik chatted amicably with Hakyeon as the time passed. It wasn’t until the stylist declared time was up on the dye did their conversation end. Wonshik’s hair had turned a rich, almond shade, making him wonder if it was possible for his hair to turn as white as snow. He decided for now he just wanted to see the style he’d asked for completed before doing anything else.  
Hakyeon massaged the colour into his hair, taking care to not get it on Wonshik’s skin. “I haven’t actually used this dye before to be honest, so I hope it comes out nice,”  
“I hope so too,” Wonshik chuckled. “Even if it fades out to pink, I’m sure it’ll still be nice,”  
“You will have to show me a picture if it fades to pink. That, I want to see,”  
Wonshik laughed. “Of course. I’ll show you next time I come in,”  
Hakyeon stopped his work for the briefest of seconds, looking down at the dye soaked head in front of him. Then he smiled.  
“I’ll take that as a promise I’ll see you again?”  
“Yes, you definitely will,”

...

Wonshik’s hair had come out a stunning crimson red. Hakyeon’s pride was more than apparent, and he immediately said that he wanted to dye his hair the same colour if he got the chance. He’d reached out to touch the fiery hair several times before Wonshik had paid and headed out the door, waving farewell as he drove into the distance.  
As the colour began to fade, however, Wonshik found he couldn’t help but constantly think about Hakyeon. His dark roots were showing in, telling him that soon, he would need to go back and see the cheerful stylist. He found himself wanting to go earlier than that, to stop by to say hello, but Wonshik held himself back. After all, surely the stylist was busy and had no extra time for him.  
He took a picture of his hair when it faded to a cruel shade of hot pink. The only thing that really cheered him up about the colour was the thought of the look of delight on Hakyeon’s face. He found himself smiling wistfully, unable to stop himself. He did that far too often now. His girlfriend had started to catch onto his smiles, but he could never confess that his thoughts had turned towards the man who cut his hair. After all, he barely liked the girl to begin with. He was only with her to hide his preference for men and to ease his parent’s worries.  
By the time his dark roots were noticeable enough that he had little choice but to don his hats once more, Wonshik was on his way to the home of the rural stylist, wondering just how he should get his hair done this time. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about the shade of blonde his hair had been before it had been dyed. Was it possible to dye it white? Could he even get it white? At the very least he could ask.  
To his surprise, Hakyeon was on the front porch, a book in his hands as his cat purred in his lap. He looked up as Wonshik pulled in, sliding the bookmark between the pages and stroking the ginger cat silently. His face lit up when he slid from his car and waved.  
“Wonshik!” Hakyeon called out, picking the cat up and setting him aside, getting to his feet. “I was wondering when you’d be back,”  
“Here I am,” Wonshik smiled brightly. “Business slow today?”  
“Yeah, really slow,” Hakyeon confessed. “Nobody’s even come for eggs, so if you want lunch I’ll make omelettes,”  
“Seriously? I’m starving, I skipped lunch,”  
Hakyeon laughed. “Alright, lunch and a new haircut then?”  
“Sounds like a plan,”  
“Got a new challenge for me?”  
“Yeah, can you get my hair white? Like totally white?”  
“Oh god the amount of bleach I’m going to have to use...” Hakyeon sighed, reaching over to tug the hat off Wonshik’s head as they stepped inside, pinching a few of the hairs between his fingers. “You must be using some good shampoo because you don’t have dead ends at all,”  
“I try to take care of it,” he admitted, plopping down in the styling chair as Hakyeon tossed his beanie into his lap.  
“Yeah, and then you fry it by asking me to turn it white. Seriously, if this works, I’m going to make sure your poor hair is okay afterwards,” Hakyeon ran his fingers through the hair on his head. Wonshik supressed a shiver. “Did it fade to pink?”  
“It did, actually,” Wonshik grinned as he whipped out his phone. He pulled the picture up and held it up just as the stylist returned with his tools. Instantly, Hakyeon began to laugh, clapping his hands and leaning heavily on the back of the chair. Wonshik felt his heart swell with affection at the sight.  
“Oh my goodness, what did people say,” Hakyeon laughed.  
“My girlfriend laughed for days. She wouldn’t stop picking on me about it,”  
“Girlfriend—ah, that’s kind of mean, don’t you think?” The smile was gone as quickly as it had come.  
“Well, yeah,” Wonshik admitted. “It kind of hurt, actually...” he sniffed.  
“I’m sorry, I laughed too,” Hakyeon said, starting to comb through his hair.  
“Not like she did. She mocked me about it. Called me ‘Princess Bubblegum’ whenever she got the chance. The nickname started spreading through my friends too. Even now they keep calling me that,”  
“That’s...I’m really sorry,”  
Wonshik shrugged nonchalantly, though his expression told Hakyeon it was still bothering him. “I’m used to it. She always finds something to laugh at about me,”  
“I can’t stand people like that...” Hakyeon muttered. He quickly shook his head. “I’m sorry, it’s not my place. How should I cut it?”  
“Can you just keep it the same length, but even it out a little?” Wonshik asked. “Cut the bangs a bit too. They’re down to my nose and it’s driving me crazy,”  
Hakyeon chuckled. “Done,” he carefully began snipping away at the ends, his fingers brushing through every inch of the hair in front of him. Wonshik allowed himself to relax into the chair, glad at least he was free from the chaos that reigned in his life back in the city.  
“I’ve been thinking about breaking up with her,” Wonshik said without thinking, enchanted by the man in the mirror and the gentle feeling of his fingers tracing through his hair.  
The scissors paused for a moment before resuming their work.  
“Does she really criticize you constantly?” Hakyeon asked.  
“Yeah...quite a bit, actually,” Wonshik sighed. “It’s always about what I look like. If it isn’t, it’s something I do. It’s like...she’s trying to change me into something she sees more desirable or something. She was really upset when I came home with that red hair,”  
“Oh come on,” Hakyeon sighed heavily. “Honestly, that’s easily one of the best styles I’ve ever cut – seriously,”  
Wonshik chuckled. “And one of the best I’ve had. But she didn’t like it. Apparently the back was too short, and she hated the colour. Then she laughed at it when it turned pink and told me I shouldn’t have even gotten it done in the first place. Then she just started calling me ‘Princess Bubblegum’ and yeah...” he sighed.  
“Well that’s ridiculous. I would assume she doesn’t love or care about you in the slightest,”  
“That’s...what I think too. The thing is though if I break up with her, I’ll probably never be able to go to one of those parties again, and I really like those parties,”  
“I would gladly sacrifice parties if it meant I could be myself,” Hakyeon said, snipping away at Wonshik’s bangs.  
“Is that why you never went back to one after your first one?” Wonshik questioned.  
For a moment, the stylist was silent, carefully cutting away at the hair in front of his eyes.  
“Yes,” he replied. “It was. I had fun, but my friends couldn’t accept me for me, so I decided to move on. It was lonely, but...I’m okay. Really, I am,”  
Wonshik said nothing in reply, unable to shake the feeling that Hakyeon was lying. How could he not be lonely living in this house all by himself, cutting people’s hair and selling eggs for a living? Surely he must’ve been lonely, even just a little.  
“What was it they couldn’t accept?” Wonshik asked as Hakyeon held up the mirror, showing the back of the cut he’d just created with his scissors. Once again, he’d done a phenomenal job.  
Hakyeon’s dark eyes peered out from beneath thick bangs, meeting his in the mirror. A faint sadness lingered there, and for a moment, Wonshik was afraid tears would fall from them to stain the tanned skin of his cheeks.  
“I would rather not say,” he said quietly.  
“Are you worried I’m not going to accept you like they did?”  
Hakyeon hesitated for a moment, and then nodded, setting the mirror aside.  
Wonshik tried not to feel hurt. Of course Hakyeon wouldn’t trust him with whatever secret he was hiding away. This was only the third time they’d even spoken. How could he even think he was close enough friends to the stylist that they could share things like that?  
“Let’s see if we can get your hair white,” Hakyeon said, smiling lightly. “I’ll put the dye in and while we wait, I’ll make us omelettes. Sound good?”  
“That sounds great, actually,” Wonshik nodded.  
Hakyeon let out a slight sigh as he prepared the dye, wrinkling his nose at the smell. “God, Wonshik, this is going to sting,”  
“I’m fully prepared for that,” Wonshik admitted. “I just really want to see if it’ll go white,”  
“You know what? Me too,” Hakyeon began spreading the dye across his hair, root to tip just as he had last time. “Believe me, if it works, I’ll give you a bottle of shampoo that’ll help heal your hair afterwards free. I’ll probably give it to you anyway to be honest,”  
“Well thank you,” Wonshik chuckled.  
“Seriously though, if you dye it again after this, please don’t ask me to do this again anytime soon,”  
“Bleach it?”  
“Yeah, bleach it,” Hakyeon replied. “I feel really bad for your hair,”  
“It’s been through a lot, but it hasn’t given up on me just yet,”  
“Surprisingly,” the stylist grinned cheekily at him in the mirror.  
Bit by bit, the strong smelling cream slid into Wonshik’s hair. As soon as he was finished, Hakyeon scrubbed his hands and retreated to the kitchen where he began preparing the eggs for omelettes. His head tingling, Wonshik stood in the doorway, a cap of tinfoil plastered to his skull. As it turned out, Hakyeon could make a mean omelette, stuffing it with garden grown vegetables and seasoning it perfectly. Wonshik could only admit through a mouthful of the meal that it was the best one he’d ever had in his life. Hakyeon took the compliments in stride, handing the praise to his chickens in the most humble manner possible.  
Wonshik’s head was burning by the time Hakyeon began to wash the dye out of his hair. When he heard the sound of the stylist’s triumphant cry, Wonshik grinned.  
“Did it work?” He asked.  
“God yes, it’s beautiful—you are a good luck charm for this stylist. Keep coming and I’ll have an ego bigger than China,”  
Wonshik laughed, lifting his head when the dye had been scrubbed out. His face split into a broad grin at the sight of the snowy white on the top of his head.  
“Amazing,” he just said as Hakyeon grabbed the hairdryer. “Amazing,”  
“Mmhmm,” Hakyeon hummed, turning on the dryer and combing it out. “Preen, you proud man, preen,”  
Wonshik laughed. “Oh I shall,”  
“What are you going to do if your girlfriend doesn’t like this one either?”  
“Oh pft,” Wonshik scoffed. A moment later he made an ‘up yours’ gesture with his hands and sniffed irritably. Hakyeon cracked a smile as he continued running the hairdryer over his hair which was beginning to take on the texture of soft downy feathers. “Honestly, I don’t care. Nothing I do pleases her,”  
Hakyeon hummed, running his fingers through Wonshik’s hair as he dried it. The snowy bangs fell into his face, sweeping over his eyebrow dashingly. The shorter strands on the top of his head stuck up slightly, further emphasising the fluffy appearance of his hair. Wonshik watched him work in the mirror, feeling those long, tanned fingers work through his hair, gently brushing along his scalp. He closed his eyes, relaxing as the warm air blew his hair dry.  
Hakyeon’s work came to an end far sooner than Wonshik would’ve liked. With a quick thank you and a photograph, taken by the stylist, he paid and departed once more with a wave. He started missing the stylist no sooner than he’d left the driveway.

...

Wonshik reappeared at Hakyeon’s house a mere three days after his hair had been bleached white. The delighted surprise on the stylists face was enough to easily brighten the bad day he’d already been having as he was quickly invited inside.  
“Are you tired of the white already?” Hakyeon joked, offering him a black coffee.  
Wonshik took it gratefully, blowing on it before taking a sip of the bitter liquid. “No,” he replied, silently wondering why he’d even come this far. Hakyeon must’ve caught his distant expression, because he was pulled into the kitchen and sat down. The stylist silently watched him as he sipped through his coffee, allowing the quaint house calm the turmoil in his heart.  
“I broke up with my girlfriend today,” Wonshik finally said, staring into the last dregs of his coffee.  
“Oh,” Hakyeon bit his lip, twiddling his thumbs. “Are you okay?”  
“Kind of,” Wonshik shrugged. “Not really. The only thing that makes it okay is that I didn’t really like her much, but it was still pretty bad,”  
“What happened?”  
“Well...” Wonshik rotated the mug against the table. “I came home with white hair...and she said it looked like I had a cracked eggshell on my head,”  
Hakyeon flinched, his fingers clenching slightly.  
“At the time I didn’t know what to say, so I mostly just ignored it until ‘Princess Bubblegum’ started to become ‘Egg Head’, and I just...sort of snapped at her and told her it was over,”  
“Does she know why you did it?”  
“All in a fit of rage, yeah I guess I told her everything; that I was sick of her trying to make me into something else, not accepting me for who I was...” he sighed. “She yelled right back at me and said it was because of my style that she was ashamed to introduce me to her parents, all this stuff happened, it all blew up and that was the end of it,”  
“I’m sorry, Wonshik,”  
He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. I’m just being who I want to be. I feel really bad for yelling though,”  
“Well, it’s one thing to not be accepted. It’s another thing to tell someone you were ashamed of them,” Hakyeon stared at his hands. “And do I ever know how it feels to have someone say that to you,”  
Wonshik grimaced, holding back the urge to reach over and hold Hakyeon’s hand. “Same reason you don’t go to parties anymore?”  
The stylist nodded silently, not looking up at him. “I ‘disgusted’ them. The people I thought were my friends were too ashamed to be around me. Nobody wanted to say ‘yeah, I’m Cha Hakyeon’s friend, he’s a great guy’ no...” he trailed off, shaking his head as his voice cracked. “I heard my best friend say to someone else ‘I’d never be friends with that—’” he cut himself off again, wincing.  
“What did he say?” Wonshik couldn’t help but pry.  
Hakyeon lifted his head, bitterness in his expression, fear filling his eyes. He shook his head, turning his gaze back to his hands.  
“If I swear not to judge you, will you tell me?”  
“He called me a ‘faggot’, Wonshik. My best friend,”  
“Oh,” Wonshik swallowed, staring down at his mug. “...Oh,” he hadn’t realized. But of course, Hakyeon wouldn’t spare that detail to him so easily. Was that why he lived alone? The reason he lost his friends?  
“And I guess if you don’t want to see me again either, I’ll understand,” Hakyeon mumbled. “You’re probably grossed out...that someone like me cut your hair,”  
“I...really don’t care,” Wonshik admitted. On the contrary, he was thrilled by this turn of events. “You’re still Hakyeon. I just know something else about you now. It’s always been a part of you, so to me, things that that don’t make a difference,”  
Hakyeon laughed lightly, his head still bowed as he rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Listen to me, whining away when you’re the one that needed the help,”  
“I needed a friend,” Wonshik said, reaching over to pat the back of Hakyeon’s head. “Honestly, you’re the only one I really have left. That’s why I came here,”  
Hakyeon caught his hand in his and set it on the table in front of them, not letting go as he lifted his head slightly, his eyes still red from the tears he’d wiped away. “I guess...you have a friend,” he said, his voice crackly.  
“And so do you,” Wonshik smiled, watching that beautiful grin split across the stylist’s face, glittering tears sliding down his cheeks once more.  
“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you...”

...

Wonshik tried to pay a visit to Hakyeon whenever he could, his hair steadily growing out as the dark roots began to take shape. His free afternoons were spent haunting the stylist’s house whether he had a customer at the time or not. He often stayed until the sun went down, prompting Hakyeon to request that he stay over for the night. Most of the time, he had to refuse. He had to work in the morning, otherwise, he easily would’ve said yes.  
The one night he could, however, Wonshik was all too happy to stay. They stayed up as long as they could, laughing at bad horror movies as they placed verbal bets on who would die next. Wonshik ended up eternally betting on the blonde in the blue bikini while Hakyeon vowed it would be the ‘fruitcake’ with the slicked back hair. The movies were simply so bad, neither of them could take it seriously.  
When at last they fell asleep, Wonshik was in the guest room. He lay awake, watching the clock tick by, sorely tempted to bother Hakyeon. He felt bad that he hadn’t yet mentioned to the stylist he had a preference for men. He was scared to admit that part. He’d spent his entire life hiding behind girlfriends while compulsively admiring men from afar, maybe hooking up with one once or twice, though they didn’t stay with him for very long. He just couldn’t help it. But now that Wonshik knew Hakyeon too liked men, he was having a hard time supressing his feelings for the stylist. He’d been crushing on him for weeks, his ‘taken’ status, and his assumption that Hakyeon was straight preventing him from nurturing his affections. With neither of those barriers in place, the feelings he had for the stylist were flourishing in ways he hadn’t felt before. It made him feel giddy, his heart fluttering at the mere thought of him. His smile, his laugh, the bright, cheerful sound of his voice, his graham cracker skin...Wonshik was falling hard, and he only wished he was capable of expressing it. It was happening far too fast, and it scared him just as much as it excited him.  
When his roots grew far too obvious for him to be able to even consider doing anything more to lengthen the life of his snow white hair, Wonshik returned to Hakyeon’s house, this time with the intention to get his hair done. He knocked on the door as usual, feeling his heart race at the thought of Hakyeon bouncing towards the door, smile already on his face. Surely he’d already seen his car.  
Sure enough, the door swung open and Wonshik was dragged into a bone crushing hug he was all too happy to return.  
“Hey,” he said warmly. “How are you?”  
“Excellent!” Hakyeon said, his deep brown eyes dancing. “Come in, come in!”  
Ushered into the house, Wonshik popped the beanie off his head and smiled. “I think I need my hair done again,”  
Hakyeon laughed, his fingers reaching up to pinch the strands of his hair, examining the roots. “I was wondering when you’d ask that,”  
“I’m sure you’ve been dying to fix my hair,”  
“I am going to stab you with my scissors if that was an intentional pun,” Hakyeon tapped his foot, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“Oh cut me some slack,” Wonshik joked, earning him a rather sharp slap on the arm. He pouted and rubbed his arm as though Hakyeon had actually hurt him, but quickly found he couldn’t hold the expression, both of them bursting out laughing a moment later.  
“Mind if I give you a challenge today?” Hakyeon asked, tilting his head to the side as his own laughter died down.  
“For my hair? Sure, if you have one,”  
“I’ve been mixing dyes and trying them out on test hair, and I managed to find a really nice shade of dark blue, if you’re interested,”  
“Let me see,” Wonshik prompted, immediately following the stylist over to his rack of dyes. He pulled out a lock of faux hair, knotted together at the end, the strands a deep, rich shade of blue.  
“Wow, that’s really nice,” Wonshik admitted.  
“Isn’t it?” Hakyeon grinned. “And it’s close to your natural hair colour, so it’ll be a smooth transition into the colour, that way, I don’t have to bleach your hair again,”  
“You really don’t want to bleach it again, do you?”  
“Like hell I do, look at it!” Hakyeon tugged at the strands of his hair again. “I can see the dead ends this time. If you asked me to bleach it again, I’d protest,”  
“Then your pretty blue it is,” Wonshik chuckled.  
“Hell. Yes,” Hakyeon fist pumped cheerfully, setting the faux hair aside. “How do you want it styled?”  
Wonshik opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He had no idea what style he wanted. But a thought came to him so quickly, he was surprised he’d never thought of it before.  
“Why don’t you choose this time?” Wonshik offered.  
Hakyeon blinked, startled by this sudden occurrence. “...What?”  
“Well, I mean,” Wonshik scratched the back of his head, biting his lip. “You created the dye. So why don’t you style my hair the way you think is best?”  
“Nobody’s ever asked me to improvise before,” Hakyeon said nervously, glancing away. “I might mess up. Are you sure...?”  
“I have faith in your judgement,” Wonshik smiled. Besides, he kind of liked the idea of Hakyeon adding his own personal touch to his hair.  
“If you’re sure, I’ll do it,” Hakyeon nodded, though he still looked a little nervous. “I just hope I don’t mess it up,”  
“If you do, that’s okay,” Wonshik laughed. “I’ll still come back,”  
“I sure hope so,” Hakyeon said, his voice fading away slightly near the end; as though he was afraid Wonshik would leave him, though he never would. He liked the stylist too much to do that.  
As Hakyeon began spraying his hair, the comb dragging smoothly through his thick locks, Wonshik allowed himself to relax. He’d missed this, he realized. Having Hakyeon work on his hair was something he’d grown to enjoy. He was gentle, slow, and never in any sort of rush to get the job done.  
“I’m just getting the dead ends out first,” Hakyeon said, pinning up layers of his hair and snipping away at the damaged strands.  
“No problem,” Wonshik replied, watching the man work in the mirror. He supressed a shiver, coming to the realization that Hakyeon’s attention was all on him. It might’ve been specifically his hair, but he still had all of it. Wonshik’s lips curled into a smile.  
When the time came for the dye, he couldn’t help but feel excited along with Hakyeon. After all, the colour was his creation. The test strips had been stunning, but the moment of truth would be when it was revealed on a full head of hair. It could come out darker, or lighter than the test, but either way, it was still Hakyeon’s colour. Wonshik felt honoured to be the first to wear it.  
“What colour are we going to call this?” Wonshik couldn’t help but ask.  
“I have no idea,” Hakyeon confessed, smearing the dye onto every strand. “Midnight Mystery?”  
Wonshik laughed. “It’s definitely a mystery right now that’s for sure,”  
“We’ll name it when it’s on your head,” Hakyeon chuckled. “For now, I’ll just call it Chablue,”  
Wonshik let out a loud laugh. “Chablue!” He cried. “That’s amazing!”  
“Glad you like it, m’dear,” Hakyeon chuckled. “Now stay still so I don’t get any of this on your skin. It’ll stain,”  
Wonshik tried to stifle his laughter and hold still, quickly finding it rather difficult. Hakyeon just continued to smile at the back of his head, lightly smearing on the last of the dye with his popsicle stick.  
“Any ideas of how you’re going to style it?” Wonshik asked curiously as Hakyeon yanked the gloves off his hands, tossing them into a nearby basin to wash later.  
“I have an idea,” Hakyeon said, nodding.  
“Can’t wait to see it,” Wonshik smiled, his heart fluttering. Hakyeon’s dye, Hakyeon’s style...the stylist was putting himself into his haircut, and that was something he found exciting.  
After a cup of coffee and a customer stopping by for eggs, Wonshik was having the dye washed out of his hair. Hakyeon was silent, making him more than a little nervous. In the position he was in, he couldn’t see Hakyeon’s face in the mirror. He could feel his fingertips in his hair, washing the dye out, squeezing each strand to make extra sure the excess had been cleaned out. A shiver ran through him as he closed his eyes. He didn’t start worrying until Hakyeon’s touch had disappeared and he was still met with silence.  
“Hakyeon...?” Wonshik opened his eyes, leaning his head back as much as he could, trying to see the stylists face.  
“It’s beautiful,” Hakyeon rasped.  
“Is it?” Wonshik began to sit up as Hakyeon dove on him with a towel, quickly drying his hair so it wouldn’t drip all over the place. When the towel was finally pulled away, Wonshik felt a thrill surge through him at the deep blue colour his hair had become. His face split into a grin as he met Hakyeon’s eyes in the mirror. He could see the pride in those beautiful brown irises, and it made Wonshik feel even better about the surprise style. Hakyeon wouldn’t dare mess it up. How could he?  
The comb began to brush through his hair once more as Hakyeon went back to work. Wonshik listened to the steady sound of the scissors snipping away at his newly dyed hair. He wanted to watch, but at the same time, he wanted to be surprised by the end result. He allowed his eyes to close, simply enjoying the feeling of Hakyeon’s gentle tugging, clips pinning his hair in place while he worked.  
After what felt like too short a time, Hakyeon’s soft whisper penetrated the silence.  
“Done,” he breathed.  
Wonshik opened his eyes, immediately taking in Hakyeon’s style. It had been trimmed short at the sides and back while kept longer at the top and front, layered thick and fluffy across his head. It swept over his brow dashingly, a cut so smooth and so...perfect he couldn’t help but feel his lips twist into a smile.  
“I love it,” Wonshik said softly, finding Hakyeon in the mirror.  
“Do you?” Hakyeon’s dazzling smile returned full force. “I really liked the style I did for you the first time so...I kind of did something similar. I think it suits you,”  
“You think?” Wonshik asked, standing up when the smock was removed.  
“Yes,” Hakyeon glanced away from him, his ears reddening slightly as he hung up the smock.  
“Well good,” he smiled. “I’m glad you think so,”  
The stylist laughed lightly, turning back to him with a cheeky smile. “Do you know what to call the colour yet?”  
“I say still keep it Chablue until further notice,”  
Hakyeon shook his head, stepping up towards him again, reaching over to brush his fingers through Wonshik’s bangs. “I feel like there’s a good name for it, just waiting. I don’t want to call it Chablue forever,”  
Wonshik held his breath, trying not to shiver as Hakyeon’s fingers brushed through his hair. He didn’t want to admit he enjoyed being groomed by the stylist. Not just yet. For now, he’d keep that little bit of information a secret.  
“What about...” Wonshik found his voice surprisingly quiet, as though Hakyeon had stolen his voice with a touch as well. “Secret Night?”  
Hakyeon lowered his hand, tilting his head to the side as he studied the colour. Then he smiled.  
“I like that,” he nodded, still smiling. “Sexy and mysterious,”  
Wonshik silently wondered if it was just the colour he was complimenting, or some of it had been directed at him as well. Part of him really hoped Hakyeon thought he was sexy.

...

A sudden cold washed through Wonshik’s workplace that week. Somehow, he remained immune to the bug, but it meant he had to take extra shifts. He went days without seeing Hakyeon’s smiling face, too exhausted at the end of a long day to take the trip out to the country, especially knowing he would be unable to stay the night. He silently cursed himself for not getting Hakyeon’s phone number or even an e-mail address. At the very least then he could still talk to him. But no, he was effectively cut off from his crush. He wondered if Hakeyon missed him just as much as he did.  
After a torturous week and a half of being unable to visit Hakyeon, Wonshik was finally given a break from work. He barely hesitated to throw himself into his car after getting off his shift and driving straight for rural Korea. The sun was setting, but he refused to wait until tomorrow.  
It was dark by the time Wonshik reached Hakyeon’s house and pulled into the driveway. He knew the shop had probably long since closed, but he wasn’t here for business anyway. He barely hesitated to step up onto the porch to knock, hoping Hakyeon would open the door.  
Crickets chirped around him as he waited, counting to twenty before knocking again, this time, a little bit louder. He began to wonder if Hakyeon even opened the door after closing. He considered calling out when the lock clicked and the door swung open. Hakyeon’s confused, mildly irritated face became one of delight and joy when he realized it was just Wonshik. He quickly pulled him into the house, wrapping his arms around him rather tightly.  
“Oof, I’ll take that as a ‘you missed me’,” Wonshik chuckled, hugging the smaller man back.  
“So much...” Hakyeon breathed.  
Feeling his heart flutter, Wonshik patted Hakyeon on the back. “I’m sorry. All of my coworkers got sick. I had to take extra shifts and couldn’t make it out to visit,”  
“Ah,” Hakyeon hummed, finally releasing the hug. “Understandable. You’re not sick, are you?”  
“No,” Wonshik chuckled, shaking his head. “I was the only one who didn’t get it,”  
“Must be the hair. It brought you good luck,” Hakyeon grinned brightly.  
“In that case I’ll make sure you cut it like this every time!” Wonshik laughed.  
“I could definitely be happy with that,” he reached up to tousle the dark blue hair he’d cut just over a week ago. Wonshik was all too happy to let him.  
“I was just making dinner. Would you like some?” Hakyeon smiled, heading back towards the kitchen.  
“I would love some,” Wonshik admitted, following him.  
He laughed. “Great,”  
“Want some help? I’m not much of a cook, but I can cut things, maybe,”  
Hakyeon snorted. “You can leave the cutting to me. I’m half-done anyway,”  
“Alright,” Wonshik sat down at the table, keeping his eyes on Hakyeon as he worked. He couldn’t help but admire him, his eyes trailing from the slender fingers that gripped the knife, up a narrow, yet muscular arm to elegant shoulders. His body was a little feminine when it came to curves, but Wonshik found it more than just a little attractive. His eyes trailed lower, swallowing nervously as they fell onto shockingly round butt. Hakyeon’s tight pants left nothing to the imagination. Glancing away quickly, Wonshik tried to regain composure. His mind was already darting over scenarios, all of which involved Hakyeon lying flat on his back on soft white sheets, moaning his name.  
“Wonshik?”  
He jumped. “Y-Yeah, sorry, what?”  
Hakyeon smiled slightly. “Are you alright?”  
“I’m fine. Just tired,”  
Hakyeon placed a plate of spaghetti covered in a generous amount of sauce in front of him. “Eat up, then rest, okay?”  
Wonshik nodded.  
He could never tell Hakyeon the thoughts he’d just been having.

...

Though Wonshik had the day off, Hakyeon did not. What made it even more difficult was the fact that several customers had stopped by for haircuts, and out of nowhere, the stylist was swamped. He spent his entire morning cutting hair to the point where Wonshik automatically knew he wouldn’t have any time to make himself lunch. Taking matters into his own hands, he used some of the food in Hakyeon’s fridge to put together a snack plate, hoping it would help.  
When his tasks were completed, Hakyeon collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh.  
“Of all the days to get five customers, it had to be today when you were here,” he mumbled.  
“Luckily I was. You look exhausted,” Wonshik got up to grab the plastic wrap covered plate from the fridge, bringing it back and setting it on the coffee table in front of them.  
“What—when did you make this?” Hakyeon asked.  
“While you were cutting that five year olds hair,” Wonshik chuckled.  
“Don’t remind me...” Hakyeon sighed, grabbing a carrot stick and crunching it noisily. “Little brat,”  
Wonshik laughed.  
“What made it worse was that the parents actually agreed with her. She’s five, please, she doesn’t need ‘princess ringlets’ in her hair. She’ll ruin them,”  
“It looked good when you were finished though,” Wonshik commented.  
“Hmm,” Hakyeon hummed, closing his eyes as he popped the last of the carrot into his mouth. “Maybe I’m just overly sensitive...”  
Wonshik shrugged, chewing on a celery stick. “You generally like your job, right? Maybe today was just one of those days where you just...didn’t want to do it,”  
Hakyeon let out a laugh, sitting up as he ran his hands over his face. “Isn’t that the truth? I blame you, Kim Wonshik. This is all your fault; you make me hate my job,”  
Wonshik laughed, smiling over at him. “But you like cutting my hair,”  
Hakyeon turned towards him, a sassy grin plastered across his cheeks. “Oh of course,” he said, reaching over to ruffle the dark locks. “You’re my favourite customer,”  
“Good to know,” Wonshik chuckled. “I’ll come back more often,”  
Hakyeon gently tugged on a few strands of Wonshik’s hair. “I should put ringlets in your hair,”  
“Please no,” he laughed.  
“Please yes,” Hakyeon winked, curling his bangs around his finger. “They’ll probably bounce when you walk,”  
“I don’t think curls would suit me,”  
“No, but waves might,” Hakyeon tilted his head to the side, studying him with a small smile. “Now I kind of just want to play with your hair,”  
Wonshik was sorely tempted to say yes. In fact, he desperately wanted to. He wanted to feel those fingers in his hair again, tugging gently and caressing just as softly.  
As though he’d heard Wonshik’s thoughts, Hakyeons fingers slid through the dark locks just over his ear, trailing through the strands, pinching them gently and shifting them into a more desirable position. Unable to help himself, Wonshik watched the stylists face, admiring every contour and curve. Hakyeon was beautiful. His heart began to race as those fingers rubbed over his scalp. Wonshik’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes finding Hakyeon’s soft, pale lips.  
Wonshik reached up, his fingertips brushing Hakyeon’s temple softly. The stylist jumped a little, his eyes darting downward to meet Wonshik’s gaze. Hakyeon’s lips parted in surprise a mere moment before they were caught in a soft, wonderfully gentle kiss.  
Wonshik’s heart beat loudly in his chest, unable to believe what he’d just done. He was kissing Hakyeon, and—he was kissing back. The movement was slight at first, Hakyeon’s lips timid and nervous. Wonshik breathed shakily, pressing his lips more firmly to the others, hearing the soft gasp slide from the other’s throat. Fingers softly trailed through hair, the kiss remaining ever sweet and slow, neither daring to pull away, thousands of questions darting through their heads.  
Wonshik pulled away first, his cheeks flushed as he glanced downward, avoiding Hakyeon’s eyes. He searched for something to say, chewing the inside of his lip nervously when he thought of nothing.  
“I thought you were straight,” Hakyeon’s voice whispered.  
“Not usually,” Wonshik replied, unable to help but crack a smile. “I never acted on crushes I’ve had on guys before,”  
Hakyeon’s tanned face flushed considerably more at those words. Wonshik felt himself turn even redder when he realized what he’d just said.  
“Y-You...have a...crush on me?” Hakyeon breathed, his lips curling upwards shyly, his hands clenched in his lap.  
Wonshik sighed, and then nodded. “Yes,” there was no sense in denying it any longer.  
Hakyeon’s eyes were wide with surprise, but they glittered with an excitement that only encouraged Wonshik to fish for more words to say.  
“I’ve...liked you for a long time,” Wonshik confessed, staring at his knees. “I just never acted on it. I had a girlfriend and I thought you weren’t interested in guys,”  
“Kim Wonshik,” Hakyeon was smiling now, reaching over to cup his cheek, turning his blushing face back towards him. “You do realize I’ve been crushing on you since the first time you walked through that door, right?”  
Wonshik shook his head, an amused sort of smile creeping up on the corners of his mouth.  
“Honestly, you should’ve told me you were into guys when I told you I was,”  
“It didn’t seem important at the time,”  
Hakyeon let out a snort and a laugh. “Kim Wonshik, you’re a real pain in the ass,”  
“Sorry about that,” Wonshik grinned crookedly, unable to help it.  
Hakyeon poked his nose with his fingertip, tilting his head to the side as he smiled softly. Wonshik took the stylists hand in his, bringing his fingers to his lips. Hakyeon’s dark eyes focused not too subtly on the gesture, his lips parting of their own accord.  
“Can we date...?” Hakyeon whispered.  
Wonshik nodded. “Of course we can,”  
Hakyeon smiled, the expression lighting up his features as though a switch had been flicked. Pulling the stylist into a cuddle, Wonshik silently thought to himself that he could definitely get used to those smiles.

...

As the sun began to set that day, Hakyeon was leaning on Wonshik’s shoulder, sucking softly on a popsicle. Keeping an arm wrapped around his new boyfriend, Wonshik enjoyed his own frozen treat, seated on the porch swing, a cat curled up nearby on the cushions. As he watched a car whiz by on the road in the distance, he couldn’t help but smile, thinking about when he too was a car that passed by this very house.  
“You know...” he said softy, drawing the attention of the stylist curled up against him. “I almost never came here,”  
“People always dropped by here by luck...” Hakyeon mumbled, taking a bite of his popsicle.  
“Then I guess in a way I was very lucky. Traffic was really bad on the highway, so I chose to take the back roads instead. And if I didn’t desperately need a haircut, I wouldn’t have looked twice at your house,”  
“You’re making it sound like destiny. Do you know how much of a sap I am when it comes to that red string business?” Hakyeon grinned up at him.  
Wonshik leaned down, pecking the other’s lip softly. “I’m definitely thinking red string,”  
“Ah you’re adorable,” Hakyeon sighed, nuzzling his neck. “Okay, that’s it, if you even so much as try to leave me, I’m locking you in my cellar,”  
“Scary,” Wonshik shuddered dramatically. “Does being your boyfriend mean I get free haircuts?”  
“No, it means I get to mess with your hair whenever I feel the need to and that means you’re my new practice dummy,”  
“Sounds perfect, when do I start?”  
Hakyeon grinned, sticking the last of the popsicle in his mouth, pulling the stick from his mouth slowly. Wonshik watched with fascination before finishing his own in a similar manner, though he was certain it didn’t appear nearly as sexy as it had when Hakyeon had done it.  
“Right now,” Hakyeon murmured, pressing his lips to his.


End file.
